The Secret Life of Magical Miami Morty
by Jatd4ever
Summary: By night, he was just your average teenage boy, you know? Jumping through portals with his grandpa, and having adventures. By day, well, he was also your average high school kid, crushing on girls that were out of his league, failing math class, and trying to get through a day without the world ending because of his mistakes, but with a secret that not even his Rick knows about.
1. Chapter 1: It's S-s-s-showtime!

***I don't own Rick and morty or it's characters**

 **I'm currently working on several fics across several Fandoms. This is based off the Tumblr comic of the same name by Left-handed-rick. This is, what I hope to be a lovable parody, though we'll see. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

There were days when he wanted to be a villain, other days he was almost a hero, but most of the time he was just Morty Smith; though the plumbus knew better. Morty had been chosen for a reason, out of all the Morty's on the finite curve, it was him. It might have been an accident, like he did look just like any other Morty, except for the funny birthmark on his right butt cheek. So what, it was not like anyone would bother looking at his butt, except for him after falling real bad in some cave. I mean, who would care about all these details anyway?

By night, he was just your average teenage boy, you know? Jumping through portals with his grandpa, and having adventures. By day, well, he was also your average high school kid, crushing on girls that were out of his league, failing math class, and trying to get through a day without the world ending because of his mistakes, but with a secret that not even his Rick knows about.

"Aw jeez, p-p-plumbus power! T-transform!"

In what could be described as a magical girl transformation, the following occurred. Ribbons bloomed forth from the winged plumbus, enveloping his body, his heartbeat matching the rhythm of Home's Resonance. Waves of glitter smacked him in the face, the taste of artificial cherry was on the tongue, soft tresses of fake Blond hair brushed his shoulders, his skin warm against the Miami sun. The snap of spandex awakening his other self. Secretly, this Morty Smith was pop singing sensation Magical Miami Morty. "It's s-s-s-showtime!"

He had been chosen for a reason, and while he had not figured that out yet, he wouldn't abuse this power. "Time to get rich and famous dawg."

* * *

The janitor Ricks grumbled as they swept away the piles of glitter. It had been another afternoon of singing covers, and cliche love songs. When he first started, all he wanted to do was run away, but he gave into the passion, and found he loved to perform. Singing and dancing actually made others happy, and while he wished he could sing a couple of his own songs, or do a flesh curtains cover, he was stuck singing whatever tune the computer chose. So, here he was, his latest concert had been a success as usual, and he was just wanted to get home.

However, his fans were not your everyday typical fans.

"MORTY! I made a clone of myself." yelled a Super Fan Rick. On his shoulders, was an adorable, smaller version of himself. "Yeah! I'm Tiny Super Fan Rick!"

Guard Ricks surrounded the teen, threatening to kill anyone on the spot. Of course, he had forbidden it, but then Ricks had their own agenda. Ricks, once you had their love, Morty's became their irrational attachments. Whether or not it applied to him, he usually humored them most of the time. "I-I can see that."

"You're so cool, I wish - wish you could come home with us."

This bit was starting to get old, but Morty winked just the same. "Wow, we-were almost the same height I bet."

"Yeah! So you want to come party with us or what?" Tiny Morty Fan Rick winked.

"Hahaha, sorry babe, but you don't have what it takes to be my Rick, but y-y-you're cute I'll give you that."

It didn't take much, they were Ricks after all. Drunk, high, and the life of the party, to them Miami Morty was just a tool to satisfy sick desires. Still, it was hard to hate them when they told him sweet things like how much they wanted to be his grandpa, or how they could all go to Blips and Chitz, but it was time to go home, and he hated to keep Rick waiting. Morty could spot him anywhere, that hair, those pink, iridescent shades, that smirk which spoke for itself, that fuchsia jacket. He oozed nightlife, impatience, charisma, and he knew it. "You're late," Rick frowned. "w-what took you so long?"

"Ricks man, they're just throwin' themselves at me again."

Tugging on his wrist, Rick scowled, his toothpick threatening to fall out of his mouth. "Come on Mortimer, move it! Forget about sheep Ricks, and lets go! NOW!"

Morty smiled, it was funny watching him get this way. "I'm coming, jeez."

What Rick didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Crowds of adoring Ricks had already swarmed his car, begging to be his grandpa, wanting a kiss or worse. "Oh no, not this again?"

"C-can you do something about them? This is embarrassing, don't make me have to repeat myself."

"Aw jeez, maybe I can give them a taste or-or something."

"Don't."

All he had to do was throw away his lollipop and watch as they scrambled after it, fighting one another for a cherry flavored lie. Thankfully, that kept them busy enough for him to reach his hover limo before things got out of hand."Hahaha, that was a g-g-great performance Zeta 7, though you need to work on your scowl, I almost saw a smile there."

With the removal of his shades, Ricks disguise was deactivated to reveal none other than Rick J19Z7, better known as Doofus Rick. "Gosh, t-t-thank you sir. I've been practicing, though without these glasses I couldn't say half that stuff. They work by taking in what I'm saying and translating it into Rick-speak."

"That's alright Rick, I don't need a play by play."

"Oh, sorry sir."

Teasing, flirting, or charm didn't work on this Rick, and it was for the best. Wiping his arms and neck with a towel, he threw it out the window to distract whoever might have been following them. "No, it's alright, you did a good job. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you sir, I appreciate it."

It had taken him a while to find a Rick he could trust, and it turned out there was only one. "You don't- you don't have to keep calling me sir, I'm still just a Morty."

"Yeah, but most Morty's aren't famous."

"And most Morty's don't boss around a Rick."

"Well, it's nice to change things up, don't you think? It would be nice to see more equality between Rick's and Morty's, but that's not a popular opinion."

There was no use making a big deal out of it, this was Doofus Rick after all. If this were any other Rick, a heated argument would have taken place, leading to misunderstandings, and possible assault. Being as inexperienced as he was, the risk of his secret being revealed….he didn't want to think about it. "Whatever you say Rick. D-did…. do you think we get some ice cream?"

"I a-a-already picked up your favorite sir. It should be in the cooler beside you."

"Thanks."

Sometimes, if there was anyone he wanted to tell, it was him, but to protect him from tuxedo Rick, he had to be strong. Outside his window, Ricks and Morty's were out together, eating, drinking, laughing, or just fighting for who knows what. A Morty dream he would say, would be to go on adventures, become Jessica's boyfriend, and be happy, but could that be his dream too? Or was he the new dream? Was he a role model or a sick man's dream?

Zeta 7 interrupted his thoughts. "Do you - don't you like your ice cream?"

Stirring the spoon around in the melted mess, he sighed. "It's fine I guess, I was just thinking is all. You know, I didn't know you were planning on watching tonight, if I did I might have taken a request."

"Really sir?"

"Sure, why not dawg?"

The older man scratched the back of his head. "There's no need to do that sir, I'm sure your fans wouldn't have cared for it."

This was true, but it didn't stop him from wanting to do something for him. "I saw you in the private booth again. You must be using those backstage passes after all."

"Of course."

"I thought you didn't care for my music Zeta 7, have you been lying to me?"

"No, n-n-not at all. We - we might have different opinions where music is concerned, but I like watching you have fun, and you seem to really enjoy what you're doing. Your fans are happy, you're doing what you love, and that's all that matters."

There were days when he really wanted to yell the truth, but that wouldn't do anything but hurt the Rick he cared for most. "Hmm, well come on babe, it's time-it's time to go home."

Home was not really to his luxury apartment at the Citadel, but being dropped off at the main portal. J19Z7 had offered to see him safely home on many occasions, but he shrugged it off. "I can take care of myself Rick, plus I've been taking self defense classes. Y-y-you're not my grandpa, well you are…but y-you know what I mean."

"Of course, but it can't be helped sir."

"Away jeez, don't be like that man. You're a good guy Zeta 7, I bet-I bet you know how to keep your Morty safe and happy. So, just to show that there's no hard feelings," he smiled warmly as he took a envelope from the inner pocket of his fur coat. "I've decided to give you your bonus early. Go take your grandson out to eat, maybe spend a day at Blips and Chitz or something. He'll love, I know I would."

A peek inside the envelope made Rick gasp. "I c-c-can't accept this much, it's too much."

It hurt him to see how honest this Rick was sometimes. It was this kind thing of behavior that made him vulnerable to be bullied by other Ricks so much. "Take it!" Morty frowned.

There were days when he forgot who he was talking to. And everytime he forgot, and did something like raise his voice, or displayed any sign of aggression, he would watch as Zeta 7 cracked, as though a little part of him died with every insult or unkind action. Morty, he hated this part of his new personality, and he would do all in his power to make up for it. "Please, I-I want you to have it," he softened. "and I won't accept any refusal. Look Rick, you do good work, are always on time, and honest. You're not like the others, trying to sell secrets or photos to the Paparazzi Ricks and Reporter Mortys. If-" he sighed. "if you want, you can tell me what you did w-w-with your bonus next time. I'm sure I'll find it amusing."

"Alright, I can - I-I'll be sure to do you so much."

It didn't take much to cause this Rick to get flustered, but then that added to his charm. He hoped that this Rick would never stop smiling."Bye babe, see you soon."

Someday, perhaps he might be able to tell him.


	2. Chapter 2: When Love Was Found

***I don't own rick and morty or it's characters**

 **I cried writing this chapter. My feels, my heart, this fic means a lot to me. I don't know what it is, but this is going to be in my list of favorites. Anyway, good is based off the Tumblr comic of the same name by Left-handed-rick.**

 **Hope you'll enjoy! And shout out to Briar 4, whose comments make my day.**

* * *

What Doofus Rick didn't know was that his grandson was pop singing sensation Magical Miami Morty.

"Morty!" came the familiar sing song voice. "I'm home."

It wasn't easy balancing his home life and private life, though Rick made it a little easier with his slowness. "H-hey R-R-Rick."

Right now, he should have been practicing the songs for next week's show, but right now he just wanted to chill out. Rick made his way over to the kitchen, poured himself some juice and took a long hard look at Morty. Bits of glitter had become acquainted with the seat of Rick's pants, but Morty ignored it. "Did you enjoy the concert?"

There was something, he could not put a his finger on it. No, it was probably nothing, though the sense of deja vu was unnerving. "I'm sorry," he softened. "w-what did you just say?"

"The concert? Did you like it?"

"Oh! Well, it's fun watching everyone have fun. There was a lot of glitter, and…. Oh, Super Unicorn Morty made a guest appearance this time. His version of You're Beautiful made me cry."

Personally, he thought the song Hurt by Nine Inch Nails would have resonated better with his audience. He handed Rick the box of tissues. "Heh, I have a hard time imagining you working for that guy. Isn't he shallow?"

Looking down at his glass, Rick sighed. "D-d-don't believe what the Citadel tabloids say, he's actually more down to earth than you'd think. He reminds me of you sometimes, though…"

Oh, Crap. "Never mind. Are you hungry?"

"A little."

Morty pulled out a glass dish from the oven. "I followed your instructions for the lasagna, but I don't know Rick, I mean, I'm not - I'm not that confident about the… if it came out right."

"I'm sure it will be fine. It sure smells delicious."

He waited until Rick tried his food, before serving himself. "He's cool huh? Miami Morty. Do you guys ever hang out and stuff?"

"Of course not. I was hired to be his personal assistant, though he only calls when he needs me."

"Not sure how you can trust a guy who is sponsored by Simple Ricks."

"I don't have to trust him Morty. He's a good kid, and I just hope he's doing okay."

He couldn't think of anything he done which would have caused Rick to worry. "What do you mean?"

"He's real talented, and I'm sure he has all that money can buy, but I wonder how his Rick treats him. I've never met him, but then i-i-it's none of my business."

Morty would have to buy a Rick cyborg at the earliest convenience, though he'd have to think of something. Zeta 7 cared about everyone, even for those who have hurt him. If he was a different kind of Morty, he might have found more permanent solutions, but he wasn't that kind of Morty. "Rick, I-I-I've been thinking," his spoon moving pieces of sausage around. "could…..can you - could you…"

Hesitance colored his tongue, fear welled in his chest, the ache almost unbearable. He thought he had gotten through this, but his past dealings had scarred him. "I… um…could.."

"What is it lil' buddy?"

Only with the help of the plumbus, and the kindness of his grandfather was he able to come out of his shell, and display his better qualities. "D-d-do you think you could teach me how to play the guitar?"

"Sure! I'd love to. You don't have to be afraid Morty, there is nothing to worry about. So, thinking of becoming a Rockstar to impress Jessica? It's okay, I won't tell."

"What? No! Well for Jessica…this isn't just about Jessica. I just… I thought it would be fun. My old Rick, he was the version whose music career took off, so I never got to meet him. I-I know it sounds weird, but I-I wanted to try, since I wanted to feel connected to him in some way. However, I'm glad that you're nothing like him, because you would never abandon me. I-I know I don't say this enough, but I love you."

Zeta-7 felt his heart grow several sizes that day, wondering how he was ever so fortunate to have such a loving grandson. He stood with open arms, sniffling, with streams of tears falling down his cheeks. "Come here."

Morty hid his tears in the softness of his grandfather's sweater, refusing to look up in fear that his emotions would get the best of him. "It's okay, grandpa's got you."

"I'm sorry about all the- all the questions."

"Don't be sorry. I'm actually glad you're not like Miami."

"Why?" Morty sniffled. "Is it the way he dresses?"

"No, well…I don't have any control over that, but if it was you, I'd be worried. I'd hate to see you possibly getting hurt by a crazy fan."

Rubbing his back, Rick softened. "Do you want to get some ice cream?"

"Yeah."

What Rick didn't know was that he had been hurt, a long time ago.

* * *

Earth dimension M-64 was nothing like the intergalactic movies made it appear to be. It was a fairly tropical planet, with little variation in seasons. 80's style never went out of fashion, Madonna was the queen of pop, and Walkmans were a hot item. Though, these details may or may not matter. Morty M-64 and his mom lived in Miami, in an apartment over a Chinese restaurant.

Him and his mom never really had much, but they were happy. During the day, while he was at school she worked as an RNA, and they would be home in time to heat up leftovers and watch reruns of Alf. Though, most days they would usually play tabletop games instead of TV, since it gave them a chance to talk. Morty, being a Bs, and Cs sort of kid didn't mind having intellectual conversations. Though, he knew that his company alone wouldn't be enough to keep his mother happy.

So, his mother started dating.

Without his mom around, he kind of had to find stuff to do, and it was okay. If he got bored, he'd go down stairs and help out at the restaurant in exchange for leftovers or read the books he borrowed from the library. He was a good kid, and was always home before dark. No one, not even the cops would want to stay out after 8, and it worried him when his mom gradually started to come home later than usual. Still, Morty did as he was told, day in and day out, and his mom seemed happy enough, and he tried to push his fears away.

Then one day, his mom didn't come back. Morty thought maybe she might have missed the last train, but after two days, he panicked. He called the hospital from a payphone, but they were just as clueless. Filing the missing persons report wasn't the worst thing. Perhaps if he was allowed to stay long enough, he might have found out, but the COR couldn't wait.

Being placed in the care of Storage Rick, him, and other Mortys had to learn. There was so much that had happened in the course of thirty years worth of pop culture. Without a Rick in his life, he had missed out on much heartbreak, and attention, but he didn't feel the need to miss someone he didn't know. His mom he did miss, and he was happy to get a picture of her to keep in his wallet.

While it wasn't hard to catch up with the latest technology, he found that he wasn't exactly like other Mortys. In Morty school, he excelled, though it was to he expected, he was Beth Smith's son after all. Yet, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable whenever he caught Teacher Rick gazing at him. It didn't take long to learn the universal truth, that Ricks didn't care about Mortys. And whether he was out in the garden talking to Morty of the valley, or reading alone, he didn't feel lonely.

Ricks thought they knew Mortys. Sure, they all looked alike, but he was a human being, not a kid, but barely a man, but himself. When he first caught himself singing a tune from back home, he found himself calm, and at one with the universe; he had a knack for music, just like his grandpa. The history books of their kind, the manuals, the novels, they all stated what a Morty ought to be, but what did he want? He didn't know.

Graduating at the top of his class, he thought there were going to be plans for a brighter tomorrow, but the diploma grew received was a piece of paper that stated he could go take a dump. Turns out a smart Morty was useless to a Rick. Everything that he had learned was a lie, they made him believe he could be useful and good, and valued, but laughter echoed through his hollowed soul. Amidst all the roars of laughter, he shivered, wishing he could disappear. A Rick, one that had come to volunteer to clean, spoke up, and offered to take him home.

In the heat of the moment, Morty accepted. M-64 Morty, really wanted to die.

The cruelty of life had threatened to extinguish his hope in humanity, taken away the only person he ever cared about, left in a place where he wasn't wanted, and taken in by a stranger, a Rick of all people. Yet, somewhere he did something right, and was taken home. The bitter hatred which almost dared consume him was washed clean, purified by the selfless love of his adoptive grandfather. Together, he learned about the universe, its complexities, the ethereal beauty, and adventures which everyday could bring. Many say they found love, but in this case, love found him.

Once again, there was music in his heart, a fire of passion which could not be tamed. Karaoke Friday's did not please him, chorus class taught him nothing he didn't already know, so he practiced in secret. By a strange turn of events, his plumbus gave him the power to become Magical Miami Morty. One of the few belongings he had taken with him before leaving his home world; it held the memories of the good old days. If he could turn back time, to the good old days, when his mom sang him to sleep, he would have told her that he loved her more.

Now, he had J19Z7, and he would give him everything that he deserved. And if he had to, he would die for him, because he loved him that much.


	3. Chapter 3: When I'm Lonely, Just Show Me

***I don't own rick end morty or it's characters**

 **This story is based off the Tumblr comic of the same name by left-handed-rick. Thanks again to Briar 4 for such lovely comments**

* * *

School had been grody to the max, and Morty couldn't wait for the day to be over so he could start his weekend already. Yet, as he got home, he couldn't believe what he heard. Dropping his Walkman into his room, he peeked into the garage, but didn't find the lovable scientist. Perhaps it had been nothing, but then he heard it again. "R-Rick?" he called.

"Morty?"

"Rick?"

"Morty! Up here Morty."

Upstairs, at the end of the hall, a ladder led up into a opening in ceiling. While he knew there was an attic, finding Rick there was unexpected. Light came through the round window on his left, the floorboards complained under his weight. Around him, trinkets were scattered, tea pots with their corresponding cups, enough craft supplies to keep a kindergarten class entertained for an several afternoons, and the sweet smell cinnamon. In the farthermost corner, was Rick seated on a Prussian blue love seat, cradling a yellow ukulele. "Hi Morty. Look at what I found. " he smiled proudly.

"Rick, what are you doing up here?"

"If you join me on the couch, I'll t-tell you."

This earned Rick an eye roll, but Morty's eyes held no annoyance, but the glimmer of curiosity. "Aw jeez Rick, wha-what are you doing up here?"

"I um… I was looking for my old guitar, and found this."

"A ukulele?"

Rick looked just like a kid who had won a treasure hunt. "Yeah, isn't it neat? It was a gift from my mom. Gosh, now that I think about it, i-i-it's yellow just like your shirt."

The honorary yellow shirt was one of the perks of attending the Morty school; it served as a constant reminder of where he had come from, and where he ended up. Whether or not he liked it was yet to be determined. "Um, I…ugh….heard something earlier, was that you?"

"Oh! Um… yeah, I was - I was playing a song I had heard on the radio."

"Well go on."

"What?"

"I want to hear it."

In the time it had taken for him to arrange his hands properly, waves of emotions passed over him. It had been a great joy to find the instrument again, but it had been slightly bittersweet as well. After the loss of Eric Stoltz Mask Morty, he had put away many of the reminders of those days. Somehow he was able to start again with a very different sort of Morty, one who he hated to admit was closer to him than anyone had ever been. And thankfully because of the choices he made, everything turned out alright.

Still, the fear as always was there.

Morty sat in silence, waiting for his grandfather to mentally prepare himself. Over the course of the last few months, Morty had learned much about his adoptive grandfather. Many things most Rick's did, while impressive, were only to benefit themselves. However, J19Z7 did things because he liked them, as well as to benefit those around him. If anyone was uncomfortable, he went out of his way to reassure them, and placate.

Yet, even after all this, it made him uncomfortable to be the center of attention, and though he could be encouraged to go outside his comfort zone, he was still easily embarrassed. "Alright Morty, but I'm warning you now…. it- it's been a while and I'm not…. I don't know," he sighed. "I'm kind of rusty, so it might not sound that great."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Are y-y-you sure?"

"Yes Rick, I am."

"Okay."

Morty didn't know what to expect when Rick opened his mouth.

"We were playing in the sand  
And you found a little band"

What the hell. This was the song that had been played on repeat for the last week, and he thought he was over this already, but it was different coming from Rick.

"You told me you fell in love with it  
Hadn't gone as I planned"

Morty wanted to sing along, but was afraid Rick might recognize his voice. There had been many times like this when he had almost let his guard down, and he knew he could trust this Rick, but he didn't want to risk putting him in danger and making him a target. It would be fine, just as it was, to listen, to enjoy, and be an audience. It warmed his heart to watch Zeta-7 unravel during moments like this, when he was so completely himself that he forgot how to feel embarrassed. Those fingers, the ones born for science, passed over the strings lovingly, his eyes closed, sitting straight backed, having bliss color him a slight shade of scarlet.

The gentle voice Morty had become accustomed to sounded confident, but enriched with splendor.

"When you had to bid adieu  
Said you'd never love anew..."

When the song was over, Morty almost missed what Rick asked. "W-was it… did I sound okay?"

That fear which plagued him day to day, the fear of rejection, of being unwanted, were wound as tightly as the ukulele strings. Lips bitten, breath caught, Rick waited for judgment.

"No."

Rick was crestfallen, but before his tears could fall Morty placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "What I meant to say Rick, what I wanted to say was no, you didn't sound okay, because you were amazing. Why don't you…. how come you don't sing more often?"

"Oh Morty, I-I didn't want to annoy you. It's one thing singing by myself, but I," he sniffled. "I-I

didn't want you to dislike me. You already know I'm not like other Ricks. I didn't want to complicate things, and I-"

"Enough, that's enough Rick. Why would you think I'd hate you? Have I ever made you feel that way?"

"No, but you see…I didn't want to bother you or make trouble for you Morty."

"You're being hard on yourself. I never hated you, and if I- if I ever hated anyone, it was myself for not-for not being a good Morty."

Protective arms enveloped him, pulling him close, his cheek brushed against his grandfather's afghan. "No Morty, you've been a great friend, and I couldn't ask for- for a better grandson."

"You could have had someone better Rick, anyone better t-t-to protect your brain waves."

"Don't," he shivered. "please don't say that. Before you came here, I had to find ways to keep busy since… if I'm busy, there is no time for loneliness. Yet, keeping busy wasn't enough...I.. I had a hard time, and there were days when I couldn't run away from the loneliness. Running away from the quiet, from the nothingness around me, from this numb feeling, and the coldness in my bones. I… oh Morty, there were days that felt like even the darkness could win. Then," he wiped away his tears, then lifted the face of his grandson. "then I saw you, and I knew you were mine. I'm glad you came with me, and that you're my Morty. I didn't… I don't think I deserve you, but I've been selfish. I didn't want to lose you, so I stopped doing the things I thought would make you uncomfortable. Please don't hate me, I….I don't know what I'd do if you did."

"I could never hate you grandpa Rick. Y-y-you're my best friend."

"Oh Morty."

"Just…just don't leave me, okay?"

Morty didn't know what he'd do if he lost someone he cared about again, it was something he didn't like to think about. Zeta-7 ruffled his grandsons hair, a soft smile found its way onto his face once again. "How could I Morty? Every time - each time I see your face, or think of you, I somehow know I can keep going."

"Really? Y-y-you mean that Rick?"

"Of course I do M-Morty. I-I need you buddy, and I-I might not be good enough for the universe, but in this dimension we're good enough for each other. I hope- hopefully that's okay."

"Yeah. Hey c-can you do something for me?"

"Sure thing lil' buddy."

"C-can you play another song Rick?"

"Like what?"

"Just play anything."

Rick played songs, one after the other until he was tired. It was a known fact that all Rick's could sing, but Zeta-7 sang because he just really enjoys the music. That's what made his voice so enjoyable to listen to. He's wasn't trying to show off or get laid. He just earnestly wanted to share the thing he loves with others so that they can enjoy it too. Turns out Rick carried music in his head wherever he went.

If he wasn't paying attention, it might have been because a silly song was playing in his mental jukebox. Morty didn't mind, because it gave him another reason why his adoptive grandpa was the best. No he was not biased, he used science, logic, and reason. Ok, perhaps it was clear who the winner was from the start, but he found another reason to love his Rick, and it was for all the right reasons.

In the span of an afternoon, Morty learned about many of the artistic facets of Zeta-7, and he shyly asked Morty if he would care to join him in his crafternoons. And when Morty said yes, Rick cried with such violent sobs, you'd wonder if someone had just died or proposed to him. Together they chatted the afternoon away, while they searched for Rick's old guitar. Though, Morty never did find the source of the cinnamon. Fallen boxes, echoes of laughter, and the dust of yesterday, colorful song, and the tugging of strings, makes for a good day.

A glance at the small instrument sitting on the couch of Prussian blue gave him an idea, and he asked Rick if he could teach him how to play it.

* * *

Over him, a balloon Morty was forever frozen in a smile, it's likeness was closer to the action figure one could buy from Salesman Rick. In his arms, Morty squeezed the doll tight, until it said the pre-recorded phrase. "You heard that? Show me?"

"THE MOoUurRGHTY!"

"Hahaha! I-I-I can't hear you. Show Me?"

"THE MOoUurRGHTY!"

"Show Me?"

"THE MOoUurRGHTY!"

Another concert was coming to a close, but before then, he had a few words to say. "Aw geez, I-I-I'm gonna- I'm about to open up a little. The next song I'm about to play for you guys it's- it's something you never heard before. They say a Morty shouldn't write his own songs, but then again, it's been said a Morty shouldn't sing unless it's as a backup singer."

In disguise, Zeta-7 sat behind the curtain, and Morty could see him, scowling, avoiding his gaze. Morty winked at him, wiping at his eyes, and softened. "I wrote this song because… I wanted…I n-n-needed to tell the person I love most in the universe how much I care, and why I care about them."

His cellphone burned in his pocket. The last few shows had almost gotten out of hand, and he had tried to warn his boss of the consequences of his behavior, but he'd politely brushed him off. Should he call them? If he dared to bother the MPS with matters which weren't considered important, they might scold him. Then again, he had heard good reports of their work, as well as the rumors.

If his boss did anything which would cause more excitement than usual, he promised himself he would call them. Even if they scolded him, or if they proved true, he would deal with the consequence. After all, famous or not, a Morty was a Morty, and he was only one of the many in the stadium. Zeta-7's eyes stung, overwhelmed by his own worry, over a Morty, over a boy he wasn't the guardian of. Perhaps, his instinct was stronger then his eyes, and his heart less foolish than the rest.

When Morty glanced at his Rick, he was struggling not to fidget, and bit his lip to control himself, trying to stay in character. Tears streamed down his cheek, but he had no choice but to let them fall or risk others finding out his secret if he removed his shades. Morty was fortunate to have such a Rick, no, such a friend in his life. He looked back towards the audience, many Rick's with Morty's on their shoulders, single Ricks, and single Morty's waited expectantly. "This song… i-i-its for you grandpa Rick."

From a fuchsia case, he took out a plumbus shaped ukulele. It felt warm in his hands, as though it were alive, and he could swear that he might have been glowing, but if anyone dare ask, he'd say it was just his natural glow. He could feel the energy course through him, and he knew that he had discovered a new power.


End file.
